This is an unspeakable wedding romcom about a roguish, yet somehow lovable womaniser (Patrick Dempsey) forced to be a male version of the "maid of honour" to his female buddy and confidante (Michelle Monaghan); her sudden wedding plans naturally alert him to the reality that he is in love with her, and must confess his feelings pronto, before losing her for ever.

The film maladroitly flips the premise of My Best Friend's Wedding and also pinches a grisly shortbread-tourist Scottish locale from Four Weddings and a Funeral. There are so many screamingly annoying things about it that I hardly know where to start.

For a start: that title. Now, for a pun to work at a basically respectable level, to operate in such a way that you don't want to grab the author and cut his or her head off with a scimitar, the double-meaning must work, as it were, on both sides. So there's "maid of honour", yes, OK, but "made of honour"? Huh? What? Sorry? Why made of honour?

It's just gibberish. Or maybe screenwriter Adam Sztykiel thinks "made" is kind of a mannish version of "maid". Everything else about it is plasticky and nonsensical with no one behaving like a real carbon-based life-form. Monaghan's charm is stifled, and a classy cameo from Sydney Pollack as Dempsey's scapegrace dad goes for nothing. A film to leave at the altar.